Training Dragons—and Boys to Be Better Men

When the credits rolled for the live-action remake of How to Train Your Dragon, I wasn’t expecting to think of Catholic theologian G.K. Chesterton. But maybe it makes perfect sense. What better time to remember the words of the “Prince of Paradox” than during a kid’s movie about a dragon slayer who becomes a dragon friend, all on the backdrop of Iceland’s natural beauty and composer John Powell’s engrossing musical score. The film easily summoned these words from Chesterton’s 1909 essay collection Tremendous Trifles: “The world will never starve for want of wonders; but only for want of wonder.”

There’s beauty and wonders all around us. And if we’re willing to stop and listen, such gifts can dislodge us from our biases and fears, casting the world in a new, more tender light.

The new film focuses on vikings who live on the isle of Berk, where they fight dragons for survival and space. The socially awkward and soft-spoken Hiccup frequently clashes with his father (and the vikings’ leader) Stoick. Hiccup eschews Berk’s traditional norms of masculinity; when it comes to the dragons, he feels more curiosity than bloodlust. Hiccup gets a chance to prove his worth when he seemingly kills the most feared dragon, Night Fury. But when Hiccup goes to inspect the dead dragon, he realizes that it’s alive. Staring upon Night Dragon, with its enveloping wings and sleek black scales, Hiccup is unwilling to pierce it with his blade.

Director Dean DeBlois stresses the need for more people to pause before acting out of fear. “We are so quick to make war with one another,” he told Sojourners. “If we have the courage, understanding, and empathy to get to actually know our ‘perceived’ enemies, then there are many more logical and peaceful solutions before us.”

I found that the film’s message — about learning to embrace the outsider and foreigner — rings particularly resonant in light of our political moment in the U.S., where there’s a vicious crackdown on those deemed “other.” DeBlois, who also directed the 2010 animated film, was eager to revisit these timeless themes. “Human beings are such tribal creatures and we’ve always feared the other … we need to be reminded there can be other responses.” Sojourners spoke with DeBlois about the film’s relevancy, the importance of wonder in the creative process, and filmmaking as an act of faith.

This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

Zachary Lee, Sojourners: One of the themes that stood out more to me in this version of the story is the ways toxic masculinity manifested in Berk’s culture. Can you talk more about this thematic throughline and expanding out that theme in this film?

Dean DeBlois: In Hiccup and Stoick’s relationship, I wanted to highlight how the problem was that the definition of “strength” was fixed and narrow for the warriors on this island. It’s a systemic problem, and every kid is trying to live up to the standards of their parents but going about it in different ways. Hiccup probably has the most public struggle because his father is the chief … Hiccup marches to the beat of his own drum — and that’s a weakness. Because he’s different, he can’t subscribe to the definition of strength in the traditional way, which means that when he finally has the opportunity to kill the Night Fury and earn his place among them, he’s ultimately unable to. That begins this exploration of how this perceived “weakness” can become a strength in disguise and how having the courage to act on that compassion kind of defines a new version of strength that could lead this tribe forward into an era of peace.

The film’s message about not letting fear rule over us and learning to welcome the stranger stood out to me more on this viewing as well. You can’t predict the relevance of your film during release, but I’m wondering how you’re thinking about the film’s prescience in light of our present political moment?

The interesting thing about this particular story is that it could have come out at any time in human history and its messages would apply, because at the end of the day, human beings are such tribal creatures. We not only always fear the other, but we are so quick to make war with one another. We need to be reminded that there can be other responses and other ways to solve problems. If we have the courage, understanding, and empathy to get to actually know our “perceived” enemies, then there are many more logical and peaceful solutions before us. We’re too quick to have this knee jerk reaction of fear.

I’m curious about the role wonder has in your creative works. Perhaps in filmmaking it can be easy to get lost in the logistics and technicality of everything.

As somebody who was inspired by movies from an early age, I wanted to be part of storytelling and creating characters and worlds that inspired that for others. I was so stirred by the wonder of movies that I had seen as a kid, whether it was Star Wars, E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial, or The Black Stallion. It wasn’t the jokes or action that stuck with me but the way I would be enraptured with this sense of wonder. Those stories made me want to dream and write stories of my own.

READ: 4 Kids’ Movies That Gave Glimpses of God’s Parental Love

In all of the projects, I hope that I deliver that in the work I do. If the movie lives on with a sense of wonder and it transports you to a place in a world and makes you want to spend time with these characters, then I feel like we’ve done our job as filmmakers. There’s a time-honored tradition of protagonists who are just regular kids but have a transformative bond with something amazing. I hope that’s something people can carry with them.

You’ve shared how one of the differences between live action and animation is that you have more “control” in animation, whereas in live action filmmaking, you can prep, do all the location scouting and rehearsal, but once you yell “action,” you have to surrender to the process of what unfolds. It’s an act of faith in a way. So I’d love to hear about the role of faith in your creative process.

I’m amazed at our actors and the ways they took ownership of these characters. Mason [Mason Thames, who plays Hiccup], for example, grew up with these movies. To him, Hiccup from the animated movies was a hero. He dressed up as him at Halloween and everything. One moment that surprised me on set and reaffirmed this sense of having faith in the process even if it may lead to somewhere I may not have envisioned was when we were shooting the scene where Hiccup has to kill the Monstrous Nightmare [writer’s note: a formidable dragon that has the ability to set itself on fire].

There’s a time-honored tradition of protagonists who are just regular kids but have a transformative bond with something amazing.

The set-up for that whole scene is Stoick is expressing pride to the whole village that Hiccup has gotten to this point where he’s going to kill his first dragon, but he’s also making fun of Hiccup. We recorded Gerard giving that speech and then the next day, we filmed the scene where Mason is standing in a tunnel listening to his father give the speech. We put the camera on his face and just drifted slightly, while playing audio of that demeaning speech over the loudspeakers.  

We just let him react to it, and watching Mason respond was a revelation. He would cast his eyes in such a way where you could feel the hurt, you could feel the barbs of mockery burrowing into his psyche. That wasn’t in the animated movie at all … but that’s something Mason was able to bring through his performance.

Even for me, who has sat with this franchise for so long, something clicked where I was like “I now understand Hiccup. This is why he’s a hero.” Hiccup resonates with outsiders and with people around the world because he can withstand all this mockery and still walk out there and follow his heart. There’s a tenacity to that that is wonderful for everybody who’s sort of felt like a misfit. I was moved to tears watching Mason bring that inner truth out in a way I wasn’t expecting.